


Drawings

by Janatee



Series: Captain Hill [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 17:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2476406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janatee/pseuds/Janatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Maria rolled her eyes. Of all the jobs Fury had stuck her with, babysitting this piece of star-spangled chivalry was not on the top of her list. If that idiot waitress kept yammering on, her cover would be blown. If she knew her eggs and toast were with the asset, she would have just kept her mouth shut."</p>
<p>The waitress keeps mixing up Steve and Maria’s orders, and they decide it’s easier to sit together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drawings

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the Captain Hill Week prompt "Miscalculation" and was originally posted on soufflesimmons.tumblr.com
> 
> Set between TFA and The Avengers

Steve had drawn the same landscape exactly twenty-four times in the two days since he’d woken up. He could handle a tiny piece of the future. One specific view from one corner of one little diner. But twenty-four tries later, he still couldn’t get it quite right.

 

But he liked the repetition, the familiarity. This was a place where you asked for a coffee and you got a coffee, not a frappucino or a venti with chocolate or a tall latte or an iced Americano. The same plate: sausage links, scrambled eggs and a single piece of toast. The same waitress every morning. She was sweet. Pretty too, if he was honest with himself, but that wasn’t really his concern right now.

 

On the third day and the twenty-eight drawing, he noticed someone tailing him. A S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, by the way she carried herself. Her hand never went to her gun and her eyes never looked at him directly, but a bit of jacket covered the holster and she could see him in the windows reflection.  

  
“Excuse me,” interrupted the waitress, “Have you eaten any of your meal yet?”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he said hurriedly, “Guess I got distracted. I can clear out in a few minutes.”

“Oh no, you can stay as long as you like,” she said, blushing, “I just-I gave you someone else’s order.”

He looked down at his plate. Sausage links, sunny side up eggs, and a single piece of french toast. He hadn’t noticed.

“I’m so sorry for the mix-up,” she continued, “I gave her yours. I can switch them back; she’s right over there, but I understand if you want me to fix you a new plate.”  
“Not a problem at all,” he said, “Eggs are eggs.” He gave her a quick smile, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you,” she said, “For not making a fuss. You’re always so pleasant.” She blushed again.

“Just human courtesy,” he shrugged.

 

Maria rolled her eyes. Of all the jobs Fury had stuck her with, babysitting this piece of star-spangled chivalry was not on the top of her list. If that idiot waitress kept yammering on, her cover would be blown. If she knew her eggs and toast were with the asset, she would have just kept her mouth shut.

 

“I can make the switch,” Steve said, “It’s no trouble.”

The waitress hesitated, but gave him a nod. He walked up to the Maria and slid her plate towards her.

“Glad you could join me,” he said, “I was beginning to miss being followed everywhere.”

She picked up his plate and handed it to him.

“Honestly, we’re giving you a lot more autonomy than you deserve right now,” she replied, looking him straight in the eyes.

“Should I expect you tomorrow?” he said.

“What do you think, Rogers?”

 

_***_

 

He had planned to ignore her; he really had, but that waitress, God bless her, couldn’t seem to get their orders straight. Rather than embarrass the sweet girl, Steve quietly exchanging plates and a few words with the agent in the corner.

 

“Good morning, Agent.”

“Good morning.”

 

“I like that jacket. It suits you.”

“Thanks.”

 

“Nice to see you.”

“Wish I could say the same.”

 

“Would you like to join me?”

“Excuse me?”

 

He hadn’t meant to say it.

 

“You know that’s putting my objective in jeopardy,” she said, “The subtlety of the mission is pretty much gone if I’m sitting right next to you.”

“I’m pretty sure all subtlety was lost when you put up a fuss about your French toast,” he said with a tiny smirk.

“Fine,” she said, “It’ll save us both some trouble.”

They walked back and sat at together. She plopped a piece of her eggs onto her toast and took a bite.

 

“Why do you eat it like that?” he said.

“Egg whites on French toast? You’re insulting an American classic,” she said with a shake of her head. Steve shrugged.

“Sorry,” he said, “Still learning these things.”  
“I’m kidding.”

“Oh.”

“Take it easy,” she said, “You stick out. Get a new outfit, maybe a haircut, and for goodness sake stop calling people ‘ma’am.’”

“Did S.H.I.E.L.D. send their most callous officer on purpose?” he said.

“I’m not an officer,” she replied, “And I didn’t get to where I am by being nice.”

“No, I suppose you didn’t.”

“Honestly, it’s been a bad week,” she said, “Hadn’t counted on babysitting a comic book hero.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it,” he said, “Tell me how you really feel.”

Maria laughed.

“At least, I get a familiar face, if a mean one,” he said, “Makes the future a little easier.”

“That’s one thing going for you; you’re resilient,” she said, “Less traumatic stuff has cost us some good agents.”

“I guess I’m taking it one day at a time.”

“How’s that working for you?”

“Hard to tell.”

 

They lapsed into silence again. Not the awkward silences between most S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, when death and secrecy lay in the spaces between words.. Steve had no secrets.  

 

To the average eye, it looked like two friends eating lunch together. But a trained observer would know they were soldiers. They both sat facing the door with feet planted on the ground, as if they might need to get up at any time. They both looked by moving their eyes rather than turning their heads.

 

 At least that was familiar. A soldier was always a soldier. They just called her an agent this time around.

 

Steve had planned on drawing the skyline again, but as he got out his sketchbook, he absentmindedly drew her jaw, a smooth curve cutting across the page. Then the jaw became a head. He lost himself in the piece, adding quick, jerky lines, and long, smooth ones. He snuck quick glances at her, filling in piercing eyes with long eyelashes, a pretty mouth forced in a hard, thin, line. Hair pulled back taught, with a single strand curling around her ear.

 

Maria’s comm started beeping, and she quickly put her hand to her ear.

“Agent Hill. Yes. He’s safe. I’ll put him on.”

She twisted the piece out of her ear and handed it to Steve.

“Hello?” he said.

 

He talked on, but Maria didn’t listen. If it was anything urgent, she’d know by now. As Steve focused on the conversation, she snuck a glance at the drawing he’d been working on. And for a moment, just a moment, Maria Hill smiled.


End file.
